


Her Devotion

by Marrilyn



Series: Hers [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Aftermath of Torture, Bruises, Chains, Episode: s12e13 Family Feud, F/F, Feels, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Torture, Injured Rowena, Injury, Pain, Rescue, Rowena Whump, Taking Care of Rowena, Whump
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-03
Updated: 2017-07-03
Packaged: 2018-11-23 01:00:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,609
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11392089
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Marrilyn/pseuds/Marrilyn
Summary: Following Gavin’s death, Crowley kidnaps and tortures Rowena. Reader rescues her from his dungeon and helps her heal.





	Her Devotion

Pain.

For the last twelve hours, it had been her entire world. Every little movement hurt. Every twitch and wince would send her body into a frenzy of pain. So she relaxed. She allowed the chains that bound her wrists to hold the weight of her body, resting her head against her arm.

There was no use fighting it. Not anymore. If her son had wished to release her, he would have done so hours ago. She was going to die here. He was going to torture her until she begged him to end her. Maybe it would take weeks, maybe decades. It all depended on when Fergus would grow bored of causing her pain.

Judging by the satisfied look on his face every time he’d strike her, he would never grow bored of it.

A part of her could understand. She _had_ had a hand in sending his son – her own grandson – to his death. As fond as she’d been of the young boy, she couldn’t pass on a perfect chance to get her revenge. The urge was too strong. And, to be fair, Gavin had made the choice himself. She’d initially been opposed to it, of course – she wasn’t _that_ heartless – but seeing as he’d already made up his mind about it, all she could do was support him.

It had been worth it. All of it. All this pain and suffering had been worth the look on Fergus’ face, the tears in his eyes, the agony in his voice. Now he knew what it felt like to have the thing you love most taken from you.

It had been cruel, what he’d done to her. How he’d made her choose between her freedom and the death of them all, and Oskar.

It was only fair for her to make him feel her loss.

She hadn’t even had time to properly mourn her adoptive son’s death. Fergus, on the other hand, had all the time in the world to miss Gavin.

Rowena had already made peace with her death. She would never get the chance to completely turn her life around, as she had planned. She would never get to see you again and tell you how much she loved you – this time without fear that someone would take you from her. She would never get the perfect life she had always wanted, with you by her side.

But that was alright with her.

She had gotten her revenge. She had hurt her son the same way he had hurt her. An eye for an eye. A son for a son.

As for you… You would be safe. You wouldn’t have to run from her son’s demons for harboring her. You wouldn’t have to hide from the literal devil because of her mistakes. You wouldn’t have to sacrifice your comfort and safety, your entire life for the sake of an ancient witch who couldn’t even tell you she loved you properly.

After she was gone, you would be free.

Rowena could handle torture. It hadn’t been her first time in this very same dungeon, bound by these very same chains. Whatever her son could throw at her, she could take it.

Steps echoed throughout the bare halls. Light and cautious, but loud enough to be heard. Rowena almost chuckled. Had Fergus become bored already? Had he come for round two? The cuts on her face hadn’t even stopped bleeding. He’d barely left the wretched cell. Surely he couldn’t have wanted to pound on her some more so soon.

The door opened and Rowena raised her head weakly, wincing as the bruises on her neck protested her movement.

“Oh, my god!”

Her tired eyes met yours, wide and frightened. You clasped a hand over your mouth as you took in her appearance, pushing back the gasps that threatened to tear from your throat.

“Y/N?” Rowena asked, narrowing her eyes in surprise. Was this one of Fergus’ tricks, or have you really come to rescue her?

“It’s me,” you confirmed, running to her. “I’d love to have a heart to heart, but we’re kinda in a hurry, so we’re gonna have to save that for later.”

“How are you here?” she asked as you started fiddling with the chains, looking for a way to free her. It was going to be tricky without the key.

“Long story short – as I’m sure you already know, Crowley has a lot of haters here. Some of them owed me favors.”

You could have asked for literally anything – it’s not often that demons owe anyone, let alone witches, favors – and you asked for her freedom? If this had been anyone else, Rowena would have called them an imbecile. Hell, she considered _you_ an imbecile. Hadn’t you realized by now she wasn’t worth the fuss?

There was always something with her. The Coven. Fergus. Lucifer. Amara. And now Fergus again. It wouldn’t be long before yet another evil thing went after her and, once again, it would be you who would have to sacrifice yourself for her.

“You should’ve just let me be,” she told you. “I’m not worth it.”

“No way in hell – no pun intended – and yes, you are. Don’t make me give you a cheesy sitcom speech,” you chided.

Rowena chuckled, which prompted another wince. God, how pathetic she was, all cut up and bruised. She wasn’t sure she would be brave enough to look herself in the mirror. What must you have thought, looking at her pathetic form? You’d seen her injured before, but never to this extend. She had no doubt that you would care for her the best you could, but a part of her still hated that you had to see her like this. She was the older one in this relationship. She’d had centuries of experience and wisdom, not to mention power not many witches could measure up to. She was supposed to be the one to protect you, not the other way around.

You caught her as the chains slipped off her wrists, helping her get steady on her feet.

“Can you walk?” you asked.

“Aye,” Rowena replied. Despite being in pain, she still had some strength in her legs. Her wounded stomach would protest her movements, no doubt, but she could take it until you got her out of this hellhole. Or at least she hoped she could. “I think so.”

You gently cupped her cheeks, mindful of the injuries covering them, and tilted her head up to look her in the eyes. “Stay strong for just a bit longer, okay? A few more minutes and this is all over.”

 _Easier said than done,_ Rowena thought. Not many could handle an entire night of torture. For the last twelve hours, it was nothing but pain for her. Punches. Strikes. Slaps. It was a wonder she was still able to talk, considering the amount of times her son’s fist connected with her mouth. She knew you meant nothing but the best for her, but she wasn’t sure she could be that strong, confident witch you knew her as.

You seeing her this broken was a huge blow to her pride as it was. If she was to stumble while you were getting her out of this place, she didn’t know how – and if – she could ever recover from that. It wouldn’t just be a failure to you – she’d fail herself just as much. She would never be able to live with herself if her weakness put you in danger, after everything you’d done for her.

As if you’d read her mind, you added: “If, at any point, it becomes too much, let me know. I’ll carry you.”

As if that would make her feel any better. Didn’t you see that she was only dragging you down? “What about Fergus?” she asked, fear flashing in her eyes. If he was to catch you attempting to break her out, he would make you pay. He told Rowena, during one of his many rants in-between the torture session, that his punishment to you would be her death. He had no intention of going after you – losing her would have been enough for him. This, however, would change things. Rowena wouldn’t be surprised if he killed you in front of her to torture her further.

“He’s out with the Winchesters,” you replied. “Don’t worry. If he comes back, I won’t let him hurt you.”

“It’s not me I’m worried about,” she said. She could take whatever torture her son could inflict on her. It was you she was afraid for. She was the one who dragged you into the mess that was her life. It wouldn’t be fair for you to pay for her mistakes.

“Rowena, I’ve got three hex bags and an angel blade. I’ll be fine. And so will you.” You made sure to emphasize every word. She wasn’t getting hurt on your watch. “He will never hurt you again. I promise.”

Rowena gave a small nod. If she wasn’t in so much pain, she would have laughed. Sometimes she forgot how protective you could be. Then you would do something like this and remind her of your devotion. What had she done to deserve someone like you in her life? Someone who loved her so much that she would risk her safety, her life, for her. Someone who didn’t think her weak despite her wounded appearance. Someone who would protect her at all costs. Despite all her misfortunes, Rowena truly was the luckiest woman in the world.

She threw an arm around your shoulders, leaning against your body for support. “Hold on tight,” you instructed.

The first few steps were difficult, but once Rowena regained her composure, thanks to leaning most of her body weight on you, she managed to keep up. Every movement hurt, every step followed by a pained hiss or a gasp. Rowena wouldn’t say it out loud, but your words of encouragement helped. Her wounds hurt, but hearing you say how what good of a job she was doing and praising her for her strength made her feel a lot better. She could do this. She could escape this horrible place and find refuge in your tiny, warm, warded apartment. Safety was only a few meters and a car ride away.

You’d barely made it halfway to the door when she doubled over, clutching her stomach, her hopes of freedom crushed in a split second. Damn Fergus! Did he have to hit her that hard?

“This is hopeless,” she said, struggling to even her breath. Her attempt to straighten up elicited a moan as her injuries protested the movement. “Just leave me.”

“Not gonna happen,” you said defiantly. “Either we both leave or neither of us does. I am _not_ leaving you.”

“You’re a fool.”

“I am,” you said with a nod.

How could you be so nonchalant about this? This was your life you were talking about! Couldn’t you see what you’d gotten yourself into, bursting into a place of danger for a person who wasn’t worth it?

“Instead of moving on with your life, you broke into Hell for a lost cause! And now you’re going to die because you’re too stubborn to realize that the perfect life you’re dreaming about is never going to happen!” she snapped, barely keeping her voice below a shout, all the hurt and anger that had been building up inside her over the last twelve hours spilling out. “Fool!”

Instead of being offended, you looked bored. “Are you done?” you asked, shooting her an incredulous look. If she thought she could get you to leave by spouting nonsense, she was gravely mistaken. You haven’t been dating her for so long – and loving her for even longer – to fall for an obvious attempt to push you away. You may not have been the sharpest tool in the shed, but you weren’t _that_ stupid. “You should know by now that doesn’t work on me. I’m not leaving you. Period. You can hate me for it all you want, but I’m here and I’m taking you home whether you want it or not!”

“Stubborn girl!” Rowena said. As baffling as she found it, your protectiveness flattered her. No one had ever loved her that much. No one had ever put her first, above even themselves. No one had ever risked their life for her.

She realized, with a sinking feeling in her gut, that she was being ungrateful. You’d come all this way, used up all the favors demons owed you, and put yourself in danger for the sole reason of freeing her. And after you get her home, there was no doubt you would do your best to make her comfortable and provide her with care no one had ever provided her with before. Last time she’d been in this dungeon, her son had left her chained up and alone for weeks. He’d given her no medicine, no healing salve, nothing to ease her pain. You, on the other hand, would tend to her every need until she got better.

“Sue me!” you shot back.

Rowena sighed, and then took a deep breath. This was going to be difficult. “Y/N, I…” How do you apologize when you had never done that before? Apologies weren’t in her nature. Guilt wasn’t in her nature. How was she supposed to put what she felt in words?

“I’m sorry, too,” you said softly, understanding what she’d meant without her having to say it out loud.“We can finish this at home. You think you can keep going?”

Rowena nodded. “Let’s go.” This would hurt like a bitch, but it was going to be worth it. Mere minutes parted her from the backseat of your car, where she could finally rest. And afterwards, mere minutes parted her from a warm bath and a safe bed. She could make it. She _had_ to. It wasn’t just her life that was at stake here – it was yours, too.

 _For you,_ she thought, reminding herself of what was most important. She couldn’t let all your hard work go to waste over a little bit of pain. She was stronger than that. She could beat it just as she’d beaten it all those other times before. If she could rot in this place for weeks three years ago, chained and bruised and miserable, then she could walk a few meters to the car.

With all the hisses and swallowed yelps, the two of you made it to the car. It took a lot of out of Rowena, both physically and mentally. She instantly threw herself on the backseat, screaming as she landed on her injuries. “Take it easy,” you said worriedly. As much as it hurt, though, she appreciated the ability to let it out freely, without fear that some demon would hear and try to lock her back up – or even worse, snitch on her to her son.

You’d given her the hex bags while you were driving, opting to only keep the angel blade. Rowena held them to her chest, clutching to them as if her life depended on it. If Fergus was to find her, that could very well become reality. Rowena was aware of how desperate she looked, huddled up with hex bags on the backseat of a car, but all sell-consciousness was thrown to the wind now that she was finally free. Her pride would heal along with her injuries. The most important thing was that neither Fergus nor his demons could hurt her anymore.

Parking in front of your building, you took a quick sweep to make sure no demons had followed you. After being convinced that the coast was clear, you helped Rowena out and, letting her lean against you for support once again, led her inside. You were both grateful your building had an elevator. Going up the stairs with a person who could barely stand would have been a nightmare for you both.

Rowena collapsed on the first thing she laid her eyes on, which happened to be your couch. A pained moan escaped her mouth as bursts of pain shot through her like electrical sparks, sudden and aching. Maybe it wasn’t the best idea to just throw herself down like that. Considering everything she’d been through, though, no one could blame her from craving comfort. She brought her hands to her sides, the bruises covering her abdomen instantly reacting to her touch.

This was going to be a problem. If it hurt this much now, she didn’t even want to think about how much it was going to hurt later. How was she going to sleep if every movement hurt as much as the beatings themselves, if not even more?

The answer to her question came in the form of a pill.

After locking the door and checking on the Devil’s Trap underneath the mat, you went to grab the first aid kit you saved for emergencies (though not quite as dire as this one) and took a pack of your pain relief pills. You set the kit on the coffee table and sat down next to her.

“It’s a painkiller,” you explained when Rowena gave you a look, silently inquiring about the medicine you were offering her. “It won’t numb everything down, but most of the pain will be gone for a few hours.”

Rowena nodded, taking the pill from you. You handed her a glass of water and she gulped the pill down, her face scrunching at the bitterness. You chuckled.

“That face you just made was so cute,” you explained when she frowned.

She smiled. You could be so silly. Overprotective and too prone to worrying at times, and at the same time so random. “Thank you,” she said, taking another sip of her water.

You nodded in response. “Give it a few minutes to kick in.”

You took her hand into your own, squeezing it for comfort. Rowena gave a squeeze back. She couldn’t put in words how appreciative she was of you, of your care. Not many people would go to such lengths for her. Most would leave her to rot in that dungeon and laugh at her misery. After all, she was a wicked witch. Who gives a damn if someone like her gets tortured and murdered?

 _You do,_ she told herself. You’d always cared about her wellbeing. Even when she was chasing after Lucifer, you cared. You loved her in silence, but your concern had been very vocal. Rowena had dismissed it back then. She would never make the same mistake again.

You pulled her sleeves up for an inch to inspect her wrists. Rowena sighed in relief at finding no open wounds there. The chains that bound them had been firm. Her milky skin bore traces of deep red and purple. These bruises would take days, maybe even weeks, to heal.

You drew closer to inspect her face, tucking stray locks of hair behind her ear. Rowena winced when your finger grazed a cut covering her right cheek.

“I’m sorry,” you said.

“It’s fine,” Rowena replied. It was just a jolt of pain. Nothing to be concerned about. There were bruises on her abdomen that hurt more than you accidentally touching her cut. She’d be lying, though, if she said your concern bothered her. It felt good to be cared for for once in her life. She hadn’t experienced this kind of kindness since the time Oskar’s family took her in.

Oskar… Rowena’s heart clenched with grief. She wouldn’t betray you like that. Not ever at the cost of her own life or freedom. She’d barely gotten over the loss of her stepson. She wasn’t going to make the same mistake with you. She was going to love you to the very end. No matter what happens, she was going to put you first. Gone were her selfish days. If you could risk your life to rescue her, she could very well return the favor.

 _You have no idea how much I love you,_ she thought, looking you in the eye. A small smile played on her lips. She would remember everything you’d done for her. Every bit of kindness you’d shown her, every kind word you’d said to her. She would remember it all. Maybe this was her way to happiness. Not doing horrible things and telling herself it’s fine. Maybe you were the thing she’d been missing all along, her way to happiness, her hope for a better future.

Maybe with you she could have it all.

“What?” you asked, noticing her strange expression.

Rowena shook her head, smile widening. “Nothing.”

You gave her a smile of your own. “You’re gonna need stitches,” you told her, looking from the cut to her cheek to the one below her eye.

Rowena shook her head once again. “Just put some gauze on them.” She’d been in enough pain as it was. There was no way she was letting a needle anywhere near her skin. Besides, she’d healed up just fine without stitches last time.

“Are you sure?”

“Aye.”

“You don’t trust me with a needle, do you?” you teased.

And there was, well, that. “I would be lying if I said I did.”

You both chuckled. It felt good to let a bit of normalcy creep in. It seemed as if it was ages ago that the two of you laughed without a care in the world. In reality, it hadn’t even been a full day.

Fergus’ torture had taken a lot out of Rowena. She was going to need some time to readjust to normalcy. Being chained up and mercilessly beaten tends to do that to a person.

You cleaned her wounds with utmost care. Rowena stayed silent throughout the procedure, save for a hiss when you accidentally poked the split flesh while positioning the gauze. She understood your concern, but she couldn’t comprehend why you felt the need to apologize. You didn’t have to do any of this. Taking care of her had been a courtesy on your part. So what if you accidentally hurt her? It was nothing in comparison to what her own son had done to her. He had, after all, been the reason for this whole mess.

Soon enough both cuts had been cleaned and dressed, the pieces of gauze covering them secured with tape. Rowena realized, with a relieved smile, that most of her pain had disappeared by the time that you finished with her cuts. Sudden movements still hurt and her bruises were as sensible to touch as ever, but simply sitting there and breathing brought no pain.

“How are you feeling?” you asked, looking her over to make sure all wounds had been death with.

“Good,” Rowena replied. “Your pill is working.”

“Happy to hear that.” You took her hand and laid a kiss to her knuckles, then another to its top. Then you cupped her cheeks and looked her in the eyes, your lips widening into a big, bright smile. “You’re going to be okay.”

Rowena could tell from the tone of your voice that you were telling it to yourself more than to her. You needed her to be okay. Just as she depended on your care, you depended on her wellbeing. You didn’t like seeing her in pain any more than she liked being that way in front of you. You loved her too much to not let her injuries bother you. Her weakness may have wounded her pride, but when it came to you, it brought nothing but fear. Fear that you would lose her. Fear that you would be unable to help her.

“Of course I am,” Rowena said. “I have you to thank for it.”

“Thank me by getting some rest.”

She most definitely could use some. She wasn’t sure whether it was everything that had happened or the pill you’d given her, but she had gotten quite sleepy. “I could use a nap,” she said. “Would you mind fetching me a blanket?”

“Wouldn’t you be more comfortable in bed?”

“I’m good here,” she assured you. _Because you’re here,_ she thought to herself. She’d be all alone in the bedroom. Here she had you to watch over her.

“Okay. Whatever you want.”

She kicked off her shoes and got comfortable while you went to search for a blanket. It wasn’t easy to find a good position to sleep when almost every movement hurt, but Rowena managed it. She laid on her side, facing the opposite wall. Her eyes settled on the edges of the Devil’s Trap sticking from underneath the mat. The apartment had been warded against angels and demons per her request months ago, back when she’d returned to life and feared Lucifer’s retaliation. You insisted on the Devil’s trap. “Just in case,” you’d said. Demons were sneaky creatures. Who knew what they could come up with in order to get inside and take her?

Now this very same Devil’s Trap gave Rowena comfort. It wasn’t even the Trap itself – it was the fact that you wanted it there, and that you checked up on it to make sure it still stood strong. You always had her best interests in mind. She was a fool not to realize it sooner.

To think that she went for Lucifer when you’d been there all along, loving her in silence, sacrificing your chance at happiness for her… Rowena had made plenty of mistakes, and that her been one of her biggest ones.

She was startled from her thoughts by you placing the blanket over her, making sure to cover her entire body. She reached for your hand when you moved to step away, grabbing your wrist. She wasn’t entirely sure why she did that. All she knew was that she needed you to stay. She couldn’t be alone, not after everything she’d gone through tonight. No warding or Devil’s Traps could make her feel as safe as she felt when she was with you.

It was strange to depend on someone after centuries on depending on nobody but herself. One part of her was frightened. Another one was happy that she’d found someone who loved her just the way she was, without forcing her to change.

She _was_ changing, but it wasn’t for you. It was because of you. Being with you made her a better person, make her appreciate all she had and taught her that love isn’t weakness – it’s strength.

“I’ll be right here,” you told her as if you’d read her mind. You leaned down to lay a kiss to her temple, then tucked a lock of hair behind her ear. “Don’t worry. I’ll keep you safe.”

That was enough for Rowena. She released your wrist, looking you in the eye. “Thank you.”

You smiled at her. “Get some sleep, sweetheart. You’re tired.”

Rowena looked you over, frowning at the dark circles surrounding your eyes. When was the last time you’d slept? “Aren’t you?”

“I’ll be fine. Coffee will take care of it.”

You gave her hand a quick squeeze to assure her of your words, but Rowena wasn’t convinced. You were sacrificing yourself yet again. She was going to have to come up with a way to repay you.

“Sleep well.”

Rowena doubted she would, but she appreciated the kind wishes. Giving you one final smile, she closed her eyes. Within minutes she found herself in dreamland. Much to her surprise, there were no nightmares, no pain and torture and wicked smirks on her son’s mouth.

Instead, there was nothing. Blissful, peaceful darkness she appreciated more than anything.

**Author's Note:**

> Editors: [BewitchedSquirrel](http://archiveofourown.org/users/BewitchedSquirrel/) and [OswinTheStrange](http://archiveofourown.org/users/OswinTheStrange/).


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